“Why?” Stel cautiously asked, confused at the sudden change of plans.
“You want to get out of this limbo, correct?” Jax asked, garnering a wordless nod from everyone. “Then that means that we need a flawless Arleyene. I think it’s time for the next stage of your training.”
…
If training with the others was hard, this was brutal. Jax was unyielding, similarly to Fey, but he clearly distinguished the times where he was her trainer and when he was her friend. Those two times never overlapped, unsurprisingly.
What was surprising however, was the fact that Stel actually found herself looking forward to the training sessions now. Jax was merciless in his teaching, but his teaching was impeccable. It only made sense; he was brought up in the Royal Palace and so he had the best instructors teaching him. But still, somehow it still didn’t feel like his talent and fighting style was particularly tailored for a king. But when she one day worked up the courage to asked him why, he just shrugged.
“That’s because I wasn’t supposed to be king. By the time that decision was made, I already started training for a position of less political responsibility and my mother insisted that if I had talent in anything, that I should pursue it,” he explained calmly, taking a swig from his canteen.
“You weren’t supposed to be king?”
He shook his head, setting the canteen down. “Ever heard of Princess Mayble?”
Stel furrowed her brows, recalling the tale of- “Oh.”
“Oh,” Jax agreed, quirking his eyebrow in amusement. “Any other questions before I teach you the difference between grappling and striking based fighting?”
Stel rotated her shoulder, almost feeling the pain she knew she was bound to feel with the next demonstration, though she focused on Jax’s question. “Yeah, actually.” Jax paused mid-stride, looking back at her. “What happened when you disappeared?”
“I’m assuming you’re asking about what happened on my end,” Jax chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the base of his neck. The bruises on his face were healing, as were the many cuts, but Stel was still curious. “I was on my way to a summit of a sort. A meeting between me and the Governors concerning the Razed, but before I could reach there—it’s kind of a blur. In short, I was abducted by Paris Avelapoulos—did they tell you about her?”
“Yes, they did.”
“Good. Well, she still has a chip on her shoulder and means to get out of jail, apparently, so she abducted me and held me in a basement in a rebel stronghold in—a place,” he tentatively said, but Stel didn’t pry; if the king of the world wanted to keep some things hidden from her, she figured she didn’t have much room to complain. “I got tortured, and—again, the time is all a blur—but after 2 and a half weeks of that, Paris’ younger sister, Athen helped me escape. Called Lady Joann, and from there, I slowly made my way home.”
“Will it be too redundant if I say ‘oh’ again?”
Jax chuckled, resuming his ready position. “I won’t blame you if you do, though in this case, getting ready to fight might be your best option. Now bend your knees, and keep them staggered-”
Yeah. Trainer Jax was now in full effect.
…
Stel slumped on the ground the second that Jax called for a break. Usually, she didn’t get too tired out (or at least not tired enough for her pride to be so wounded as to sit down during the 5 minutes between training sessions), after all, she ran often on the streets which built up her stamina. Sometimes, she even trained on her own when whichever Strategist’s lesson it was, took a breather.
But Jax was unyielding in ways that he everyone else wasn’t. Fey redefined Stel’s limits as Agent Downcley, but Jax put Stel on a level where limits didn’t exist.
It was quite beautiful, actually—the way Jax fought. It was an art, careful calculation and practiced motion and the grace of angels. There was a slight hesitation when Jax ruled, but with a weapon in hand, he was made of cloud; ethereal and untouchable.
“Tired?” he asked amusedly, chugging water.
“Never,” Stel shot back, face still pressed on the icy tiles of the ground. “I’m just speaking with the ground.”
“Tell it that I said hello,” Jax played along, taking a seat in a chair (with much more manners than her) to work though paperwork and agreements as if he didn’t just go through a grueling dueling match (because he was still the king, after all).
“The ground is a cordial and engaging discussion partner, Jaxcon,” Stel said, her breaths growing more even as she dared to call the king by his proper name. Referring him mentally as Jax was one thing—still beyond strange, but better than saying it—but actually announcing the name aloud without any repercussions made Stel feel as if she were doing something taboo and getting away with it (there was no such thing as taboo with Jax, and she had come to discover). “We’re in a riveting conversation and I don’t wish to break it because of the king’s address.”
“Right. My profuse apologies. So, question?”
That was a new tradition that started during their relentless training sessions. Jax would somewhat sympathize with Stel, who was always brimming with questions anyway, so whenever they took a break, Jax would be required to answer one of Stel Hathaway’s questions.
“Celine,” Stel chose to say, and Jax looked up, his face contorted in confusion.
“Celine? Is that your question?”
Stel nodded and sat up, crossing her arms at the king. “You never said I had to specify, so now I can ask as many questions about Celine Hollingsworth as I see fit,”
The corner of Jax’s mouth turned up, and he put his papers to the side, standing. “That’s true. Then, ask.”
“What made you see the Head Strategist in her?” she asked, thinking about how the blonde had previously confessed to be a much worse leader before, during an accent lesson where Stel struggled to get Arleyene’s AR accent down (which she perfectly mastered now, thank you very much). “She said that when you first gave her that title, she was nowhere close to being a leader.”
Jax licked his lips thoughtfully, moving to lean against the wall. “I could see that out of all her possible paths, a leader would be the most fruitful. And out of all my candidates, she seemed to possess the most leader-like qualities.”
“She was like a natural-born leader, then?”
“I would beg to differ,” Jax interjected, “To me, there is no such thing like as a natural-born leader. There are people who can lead, and those who can’t, but the ability needs to be fostered and can only build through experience. You can’t just rule a country without being conditioned to do so, or lead a group of people successfully without some tribulations or incidents requiring the skill of leadership. I’m giving her the needed experience.”
Stel felt her brows furrow. “You saw that in her?”
“I saw enough. And as a contingency, if she didn’t turn out to be a leader, I saw the passion she has for this project. That alone could carry this team enough until that everyone else’s talents could come in and complete the work needed to be done.”
Stel paused, unmoving due to Jax’s words, wondering what she was. Stel never disillusioned herself by thinking that she was leader. Stel was a survivor, a scavenger, but she needed to know whether she had the potential to become a soldier and a spy. And if she didn’t, she did have a quality to push her through, like passion for Celine?
Did she-
“Stel?”
Her head shot up to see Jax standing upright, looking ready to spring into action.
“Sorry,” she quietly muttered, shaking herself out of thought. “Got lost in my own world for a bit there.”
Jax nodded, though Stel knew that he didn’t believe her. He didn’t as any question though, which was more than what Stel could’ve ever wished for. “Is that all of your questions on Celine Hollingsworth, then?” Jax asked, picking up his broadsword.
Well, if Stel had the chance… “How much truth is there in the teasing about you and
Celine?”
Jax sighed, leaning against his sword, though there was a small smile on his face. “About as much truth as you would think these things to be. There isn’t much time to explore feelings right now. And then with the complications of whether it’ll work or not, it’s too much to even consider with all that’s going on; romance isn’t even an option. But it would be nice to one day be able to over-examine every feeling in ourselves, wouldn’t it?”
Stel nodded, taking the words into account. It was true; the only relationship that really needed to be established was that between Stel and the forbidding General Kessia. “I know that we already have a lot on our plates, but there’s something else, isn’t there? Something beyond kingly duties and anti-war efforts?”
Jax let out a wry chuckle, though his eyes darkened almost imperceptibly. “I think the something else falls under both mentioned categories, Hathaway. It’s Duke Dmitri, next-in-line for the throne of NNR, and my cousin. He’s hell-bent on visiting next week.”
Stel felt her stomach curl in dread. “But I’ll still be here. I’ll still need to be trained.”
“You need less training than you think. You’re practically her, Stel. The likeliness after Celine was through with styling you, the behaviour, the talk, everything. I do a double take every time I see you, Stel. If I didn’t know that Arleyene was dead, I would think that I’ve been teaching her for the past few weeks. And as for Dmitri—well, he’s troublesome. I’ll handle him though.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“It’s no trouble,” Jax told her, with a smile on his face. And even though Stel knew from their previous conversations that being king was never Jax’s wish or destiny, she couldn’t help but think that NNR was extremely lucky to have him as their ruler, despite all his flaws and unusual ways. “How did you get Arleyene’s behaviour down to a pin-point, though? She died before we could ever really see her for whom she was; assuming, of course, that an Elix spy wouldn’t behave as civil and kindly as Areya Carson did to us.”
Stel let out her own chuckle, picking herself off the ground. “As you know, Celine taught me most of the behavioural things, though everyone pitched in. We watched videos that were taken on Elix, a part of the training program they have that Arleyene has been in since birth, training to be a soldier of the Immortale Queen. And as for how we acquired such videos, I’m not sure the king who is sworn to stay as lawful as possible, should know.”
Jax groaned, though there was a small smile on his face. “I don’t want to know, do I?”
“Nope,” Stel cheerfully agreed, moving over to the weapons rack, pulling out her perfectly balanced broadsword out swiftly, turning towards the king. “Now should we get practicing, or what?”
…
“Come on, Hathaway. Take a break.”
Jax was practically pleading, head slumped in his arms, cue cards in wild array across the room. They had moved past physical training and were now brushing up on Stel’s Immortale knowledge and making sure that she knew everything that Arleyene Crawford would know. And least to say, Jax wasn’t a fan of the sitting and learning, his slouched position making him look more like the young man he was, and less like a king with too much weight on his shoulders. A young man with a very clear distaste towards Immortale trivia.
It was hilarious.
Stel enjoyed the physical training, but nothing could top the process of learning so many new things. She never had the opportunity to learn when she was on the streets, and that only made her yearn for it even more, knowing how it felt to have endless information waiting for her if she were willing and patient enough to learn. And while Stel Hathaway wasn’t normally a patient person, her desire for knowledge burned everything else out of the way, leaving her with a need to learn everything she could.
“Stel, please; my eyes are actually going to fall off if I have to read another question on NNR and Immortale history,”
“Fine,” she announced, rolled her eyes. “I have a question.”
“Of course, you do,” Jax yawned loudly, before quickly composing himself in his usual kingly ways. “And what would this question be?”
“You came back suddenly, and no doubt ruined Fey’s plans. Everyone’s plan, actually. So, what happened in between you coming back and the fake attack against me?”
“That’s quite a story—you’ll probably get a better version from Z. I don’t remember much, to be honest, maybe it was the blood loss. Anyway, I know for a fact that Fey got extremely defensive, then combative, then apologetic; a mixed bag, really. And she managed to break a computer in shock. Broke poor Z’s heart,” Jax added with a chuckle. “And then-”
“Jax!” Stel whirred on the voice to find January Kurata-Tormont coming into the room, his strides furious. “Your dearest cousin has arrived, and if you don’t go to greet him soon, he’s going to cause a very ugly scene for himself.”
“Dmitri’s already here?” Jax cried out, the same time Stel asked: “What kind of ugly scene?”
The king cast Stel a side glance, though he focused back on Jan, clearly awaiting a response. “I think he was going for an element of surprise, but clearly something’s wrong, because he’s downright screeching in the North Wing,” Jan said, looking more pissed than usual.
“And the ugly scene is January punching Duke Dmitri because good lord, he’s a pest,” Z said, his pace much calmer in comparison to Jan’s earlier walk as he came into the room. “And my good gods, Jax, the genes in your family are great. The Duke might be even better looking than you.”
“Thanks?” Jax said questioningly, though Stel thought he looked a little flushed. “But the pest part sounds exactly like him. I need to go and do damage control, but I need you all to listen to me carefully. Do not under any circumstances let Dmitri know the actual reasons why you’re here. We might have to have another late-night meeting to come up with a cover-story and create a Dmitri-watch list, but I’ll get back to you. And please, finish Hathaway’s lesson, Kurata-Tormont and Z. Thank you.”
“What are we learning?” Z asked, as Jax glumly left the room, somehow looking more dejected at the possibility of seeing his cousin than continuing to quiz Stel on history.
“The History of NNR, Elix, and the Time Before,” Stel diligently recited and Z’s eyes grew wide as Jan’s mouth quirked the slightest bit to the side.
“Okay, I’ll tell Fey and Celine about Dmitri,” Z immediately decided, giving Jan and Stel a wink. “Study hard guys!”
“And then they were two,” Jan muttered quietly, though Stel wasn’t sure if her ears were failing her, because was January Kurata-Tormont quipping?
“I’m sorry?”
“I said,” Jan clarified, turning away from the door to face Stel, cue cards in hand, “what are the names of the 14 Regions, and the names of the Governors of said Regions?”
And of course, January had to somehow ruin learning for her too.
…
“I have an urgent question that needs to be answered immediately,” Z said, running into the room and everyone’s heads snapped up to see the frazzled-looking mechanic. Stel felt the always-present knot in her stomach tighten, as all the possibilities of things that could go wrong flashed before her eyes.
“What’s the matter?” Celine asked, jumping to her feet, a deep crease forming between her brows.
“Is the driver’s name Cecil?” Z asked, taking his seat with a heaving breath. All the Strategists, Jax, and Stel were seated around the table in the meeting room, for one last brief before Stel would be sent off to Elix where she had to be the perfect Arleyene or risk her execution along with the nation’s. So no pressure, really.
“Oh my god, Z,” Celine growled, taking a seat, though there was a fond smile on her face. Stel collapsed against her chair, allowing her tense shoulders to relax as she realized that Z’s urgent question was probably something that didn’t affect her, unlike her possible beheading.
“Yes, it is. Why are you asking, Z?” Jax asked, e
yebrows raised in amusement.
“Because,” Z announced dramatically, “he just saved me from Dmitri duty. He’s taking the gorgeous slime rat to London so he can address the public-”
“Poor public,” Jan grumbled, earning a smile from Stel and almost everyone else, though Z didn’t falter in his story-telling.
“-which relieves me of Dmitri duty for at least until Stel departs. I’m going to write him a magnificent card, and I need to spell his name correctly. So is it Cecil with an ‘e’, or without?”
“Without,” Jax said, his voice bordering dry and amused. “You certainly know how to shock a crowd, Z.”
“I know,” Z agreed, beaming with a smile that lit up his eyes. “Can we hurry this meeting along, or what? I have a much more important card to get making.”
Fey snorted, the corner of her mouth turning up in a predatory smirk. “You know, Z, the card will come off less like a thank you, and more like a threat. You know, considering your artistic capabilities.”
And for the first time in what seemed like ages, the unspoken heaviness that always was there disappeared, and the room erupted in laughter. It was a room full of kids, regardless of the fact that they were of age or that they had responsibilities beyond many people’s wildest dreams. And they owed it to themselves to have a few moments of unadulterated bliss like this.
Z had a mock shocked look on his face, though he was still smiling. “I am wounded, Downcley,” he informed her as seriously as possible. “Heartbroken.”
Stel rolled her eyes, though the impossible lightness in her chest stayed. If this was going to be her last meeting with all these people in some time, she was happy it would be on such a light note. She needed it. “I’m sure you are,” Stel said, allowing that lightness to seep into her voice. “But we also need to talk business. Everything I need is on the ship right now.”
That sobered the mood up instantly, and though Stel gratefully still felt the calm, she couldn’t help but feel like this was just the peace before a raging storm. Either way, she would take it.
The Reformation Page 35